I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE HOPEFUL THAN I AM TONIGHT, I WILL GET THERE. I PROMISE MYSELF THAT I WILL GET THERE... (a letter from last year)
This is a continuation of my 'why I hate Mondays' series. It was also a Monday. I was as broke as hell, one of it's kind since I joined campus. My Mpesa balance read 0.00 and my available Fuliza limit was 4.65 shilings. I could not even afford 'sweety za five bob'😂 That was the real definition of 'mambo kuchemka'
Message reaching me from home had it that the earliest I could receive something small from that end was Thursday, a whooping four days!😱 The whole of that Monday I had 'survived' in my friends residences until nightfall. The light foods I ate at their places had drained down my alimentary canal and I badly needed something for supper. What could I do?🤔
I was literally confused, seated by my roommates who had earlier 'disappeared' with my tinful of dry fried omena I had carried from home, only to deny the act. I was stuck. All doors seemed shut on me.😨
I went through my WhatsApp contacts to see who was online, and whether they could offer any help. I was lucky to come across a YOBA (a term referring to old boys of the great St. Mary's School, Yala). I asked him to lend me some 60 shillings, which I was to refund the following day, I dont know from where.😆 The YOBA replied 'wazi'. I felt delighted, knowing that 'form ya supper' was finally materializing. But alas!
Immediately after he asked me "kwa hii namba?", he went offline. I couldn't help but stare at the glare of my screen. What a dissapointment. Minutes passed, five, ten, fifteen, twenty... I gave up on him. 🤨
I sat down squarely to figure out my next move, just like Michael Scotfield always took time to think in the evergreen Prison Break series. But seemingly, deep thinking was not possible on a rumbling stomach.
I came across our class rep's updates on the following day's classes. They were packed from 8 am to around 3 pm. I vowed that there was no way🚫I was going to attend the lectures on an empty stomach. Few minutes after the vow, a notification popped up on my screen. Guess what? The YOBA had come back online! 😀
I quickly rushed to tell him how he had 'bebad me ufala' and aded a dozen of laugh emojis to conceal the harshness😂😂. He went ahead to narrate how he forgot to send the money, how his WhatsApp had issues, and so much stuff. He then asked, "ama ushapata?"
I immediately realised he probably took that long and assumed I would use 'common sense' and get the money elsewhere. I had literally nowhere else to get the money, so I replied, "bado". I guess the guilt, or that ka-funny feeling ran through him and pap! He finally sent the money. I felt elated. 😊😊
I purchased 2 mandazis worth 20 shillings on my way to hostel. That was my supper. I walked slowly in the biting cold as I listened to Diamond's Yatapita over my earphones. "It shall pass, it all has an end. Ipo siku tutayasahau, watatuheshimu waliotudharau". Tears rolled over my cheeks😭😭. The lyrics made sense then than ever before.
I 'feasted' on the 2 mandazis and drank two mugfuls of water. I belched out loud as I reached my phone to watch a certain president Barrack Obama speech on making America great again. Forget the context, his words rekindled the hope in me. I'd never been more hopeful than I was that night that I will get there. The soft life that I've ever craved for😍. To be able to afford everything I need without bothering anyone. To be able to eat to my satisfaction delicious, balanced diets. To help my financially struggling family to stay afloat. Dear Lord, it's all I ask. Is that too much?